Spiritblade—Refreshingly, you say? I was hoping for kinkily, but I guess I missed… And I don't like the word evil. Never again mention it in my presence. Grr.

RichardRahl—Well… Okay. Someone's getting shaved. Oi! Asuka! Over here! NERV will meet his family… eventually

legacyZero—Bah. Stupid ISP's. Queasy? Oh, maybe just a little… . I hope this chapter was worse though. The "feeling" you say… cool. More violent as in more violence or even sicker/more graphic/more disgusting violence? Yes, to both.

D14852001—"slip" at her? You mean go psycho on her. Not so much, really. She's about as close to a Weapon as one can get in Eva without actually being one.

Karibanu—not really a bad day, just a late night. Brutal, eh?

Crrot—I've always liked torture. 'Dachi's quirky, not obsessed with jewelry. And that would be too obvious. Give him away and whatnot. You're reading SN? And not reviewing? Interesting. . If you want to see what someone's face looks like without skin, go watch Once Upon a Time in Mexico.

Angel of Twins—Yes. That was a good movie. And yes, I've seen your stuff, not totally coincidental. I think your profile lists another identity as "Two Minds", which would mean you reviewed SN. "Special", eh? Continuing.

Tatsu—Right-o. Nothing to do with Akane. It may have come from Battle Royale, but I'm not sure. If so, she was this deluded freak who thought she was some sort of "space warrior" who was going to kill the "demon" that had been killing her classmates. Said "demon" shot her without looking at her. Unless I'm thinking of the wrong character.

A/N: How odd. I make torture, I get more reviews. Oo I'm not understanding why in the name of whatever the Eleventh was trying to destroy the Geofront. That would have blown the shit out of Adam. And that would be directly against what the Angels wanted. The hell?

I have words of knowledge for you: "Be as water, spineless and running." And more: "Be as water, full of deer piss."

"So, you're in the army. What do you do?"
"I go to foreign countries and kill people."

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Ocean Red

Chapter Seventeen: The Hope Train. Thingy.

A Neon Genesis Evangelion Fanfiction

By CrimsonNoble

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"Stab," the boy mumbled irritably as he sank to the floor. The now empty magazine of his SIG clattered to the tile. Automatically he felt for another, before remembering that he hadn't brought one. "Stupid, stupid, stupid German!"

His hand found the clip, gripping it tightly as he prepared to enter the hall. The child was not at all discouraged by the lack of ammunition, though he did shove the weapon back into his belt, and drew a knife, nor was he discouraged by the motion sensitive automated turret at the far end of the hall. His lack of a plan depressed him not at all, and his chances of success only managed to excite him.

Shinji's tongue flickered out, wetting his chapping lips. This would be so easy if he blew the thing apart with the Power…

But that wasn't why he was doing this. He was doing it to try and prevent himself from killing what's-her-name. Not that he didn't want to kill her. No, he just thought he might not be able to finish the elimination of the Tendos. And that would have upset him. He never failed.

He lunged, watching as the barrels began to spin faster, and then a dragon-tongue of flame leapt from them, tracing incredibly slowly across the hall toward a running Nodachi.

He threw the empty clip; the machine deliberated for a moment, and then decided to follow it. He took advantage of the extra time, and managed to get most of the way to the machine before it caught up with him.

The first three shots slammed into his shoulder. The only thing that saved it from complete and utter destruction was the gearsuit, the myomers of which tensed, going from a soft, almost liquid consistency, to comparable to diamonds in an instant as he flexed.

Nevertheless, he was sent spinning to the floor, almost underneath the machine itself. "Miasma-forsaken piece of crap!" He shouted at it, watching as it continued firing uselessly down the corridor, thankful that it did not depress, and wondering why in the name of Satan's Unholy Legions he hadn't crawled at it. His knife leapt, and severed the belt, strangling the feed-mechanism and it ran dry. Still the barrels spun madly as it attempted to pursue its function.

Shinji gripped one of the legs as he stood, flipping it onto the side. "There we go. All better now."

Down the hall he went, to find that around the next corner there was nothing. Perfectly clear. He stopped, and his eyes commenced an intense scrutiny of the corridor, fully expecting some sort of pop-out turret, or blocks of explosives. Of course, he knew, if there were explosives, they would not be visible. Then again, he also knew that it would probably not be a good idea to destroy a great part of their own building, even if it was specifically for training, so explosives were unlikely.

He commenced marching down the hall without actually satisfying his sense of caution. If he died, it was his own damn fault.

And, then again, killing their own personnel was probably not a very good business decision. One did not get far murdering their employees. Unless, of course, that was the entire point. In which case, one could get damn far murdering one's own employees.

None of which actually ran through his mind. His concerns were more immediate, like what lay around the next corner, between him and the way out. And besides that, he didn't care all that much being a business.

He rounded the corner, backpedaled immediately with a small, "Oh," of discovery, and went to one knee. He peeked around again, just to make entirely sure, and nearly had his head taken off by the massive slug fired from the thing down the hall. It was nearly artillery, that. He looked a third time, though now it was to ascertain the position. The gaping hole in the wall bore testament to the size of the rounds the machine fired. Nope, no need to make sure that was accurate.

No need to test the accuracy of the artillery either. Nope, none at all. No need to find out if it was loaded with explosive rounds either. Nope, none at all.

Sure, his suit might protect him from the impact… somewhat, but it wouldn't do much against an explosion. Not that it had ever actually been tested… Insane Nodachi may have been. Stupid, quite possibly. An idiot, probably. Carelessly suicidal, most definitely not.

He swung around the corner, and fired the last slug at the machine. Still it put a sizeable chunk of metal through the wall next to him, before the bullet impacted the target zone and it went dead.

Nodachi hissed angrily from where he lay, grabbing weakly at the piece--"slab," he muttered darkly--of wood that had thrown him. He had not been prepared for it, and he knew that there would be a large bruise there later.

He shoved himself to his feet, marched carefully over to the machine, glared at it for a while, and then gripped the barrel of the weapon and twisted. When it had been deformed into something that looked almost, but not quite, like a poorly-made pretzel, he stopped and stormed carefully past it.

--

"No."

Purplie groaned. She really had to get the two to work together, unless she really wanted the Sub-Commander to kill her. That might have been a mercy, as she was being forced to house the two as they were learning to work together. Or would be forced to, if she ever got the boy to do it. He was acting like a spoiled, stubborn three-year old at the moment.

"You have to," she snapped, and then recoiled as if struck, expecting him to turn and kill her, or some such. What happened was far, far worse.

He turned, and grinned widely at her, showing a lot of teeth. His hands clapped against his cheeks in a motion she had never though she'd see outside of a movie, and he giggled. This wasn't a menacing giggle, but that only made it worse somehow. It sounded like he was delighted.

Only knowledge of certain death kept her from fleeing. It could have been worse, she tried to comfort herself, it could be worse. She could wake up to find the boy staring at her, various torture implements (she wasn't quite clear on what these were) at the ready. That this was not entirely an unlikely outcome with him living inside her house, she deliberately ignored.

"No," he squeaked in a voice that somehow brought to mind a toddler. Admittedly, a toddler that had gone through Weapons One-oh-one, Killing Two-oh-two, and Being a Sadistic Ass Three-oh-three.

She wanted to shoot him and get it all over with. Only the thought of what would happen if she didn't kill him on the first shot stayed her hand. She was absolutely certain she would not get a second try. She was right, though perhaps not quite in the way she thought.

"You are going to come with me!" Almost instantly Katsuragi regretted her outburst. She winced, retreating as far as she could without going through the wall she had inadvertently allowed herself to be backed against.

The white sleeve of Shinji's school shirt slipped down as he patted Kat-lady's shoulder with perhaps excessive force. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the matte black of the gearsuit reaching up his arm, and for the first time wondered why the boy was wearing gloves.

"Silly, silly, silly!" He repeated through his laughter. "You're not the boss of me!"

Misato thought about that for a minute. "Yes," she protested, "I am!"

"Oh. Oh well. Too bad." His fingers twisted into her jacket, gripping the material tightly as he prepared to fling her in the general direction of the door.

"Nodachi…"

It was, Misato decided, the sing-song quality of the voice that disturbed her most. She had to tilt her head to see around Ikari's, to be confronted by the grinning visage of Shuriken. It looked, she thought, distinctly like the girl filed her teeth into points. As a result, her mouth was full of things that appeared to be, but couldn't possibly be, the teeth of a large cat.

"Ooooh! Looky! We're entertaining a guest! What joy!"

Misato's hopes of rescue abruptly found that the oasis they had been playing in was actually a mirage, and realized that they had been drinking sand. The screams of their surprise rang throughout her skull strangely, and she missed whatever the pilot had responded with.

The toilet flushed, and she had to wonder who these people were, inhabiting the home of one of the most valuable people in the country. And why the hell Section Two hadn't mentioned them, or indeed thrown them out. The sound of the tap running drew the attention of everyone, and Misato felt like demanding why there was a sink to wash hands, when they could easily be cleaned with other methods. She refrained, more curious as to the identity of the occupant.

"Who is that?" she asked hesitantly.

Shinji laughed somewhere in his throat. "That is… a secret!"

Misato attempted to slide down the wall, and was foiled by Shinji's grip on her jacket. "Off…" she protested feebly, prying weakly at his fingers. He slapped her for the effort, and otherwise continued ignoring her.

Her hopes found themselves on a cruise liner, sailing off the coast of some island or other as she caught sight of the man exiting the bathroom. He was short, sure, but she could see the girl practically kneeling before him, and feel the weight of the boy as he leaned against the wall, or rather, against her, and through her the wall.

"What are you doing?"

" 'Dachi's got a new toy!" the girl squealed. It put Misato in mind of the sound of gears turning, dragging the hanging corpse of a cow, which strangely had rather purple hair, to the butcher, not unlike an assembly line.

"Ah. Carry on then, but keep it down. There's that girl upstairs."

Rei? Misato wondered. He knows about Rei? Fucking Section Two incompetents. Her hopes found that the cruise liner had a rather serious malfunction with the rudder control, and were driven into the cliffs. The engine also evidently had problems, as it exploded shortly thereafter.

And then she was faced with two grins. "Urk!" She whimpered eloquently.

--

When Section Two finally answered Misato's screams for help, they found her tied to the ceiling of the apartment, her hair dangling mere centimeters from the floor. She was gibbering madly, drool splattering intermittently on the wood -- or tile, it was hard to tell -- floor. Shuriken and the Ancient One had vanished, most likely out the hole in the wall. Shinji was rocking back and forth, precariously perched on the bed, giggling and letting out mad shrieks of laughter whenever Misato twitched or screamed particularly loudly. Or perhaps she twitched and screamed when he shrieked; it seemed to happen nearly at the same time.

When they tried to remove the strung up Captain, one of them was met by a dart-shuriken to the groin. His eyes crossed, his hands moved to his crotch, and he toppled, face first into the puddle of saliva beneath the purple haired woman. Wisely the remaining Section Two Agents decided to cease and desist and, more importantly, call for backup. Equally wisely, the backup never arrived.

It wasn't until Ryouji Kaji made an appearance that the vastly amused Living Weapon allowed his play toy to be taken down. And then only because the man was waving a shotgun around like it was a twirling baton. If nothing else, Shinji Ikari had great respect for shotguns. His leg still itched whenever he saw a Remington M31. It had been what, five years now? Shinji thought.

He was then dragged out of the room by the dismayed Section Two Agents. However, once he exited the apartment, having been sort of bodily flung out, he catapulted himself into one of them, sending him into, and then over, the railing. He watched curiously as the man fell, leaning dangerously far over the edge, and laughed as the Agent slammed into the roof of a passing convertible, collapsing it, killing the driver, and sending the car careening into the apartment, where the impact sent sparks up, before it burst into flame.

"Pretty, pretty, pretty!" Shinji giggled. The next agent, who tried to grab the boy by the back of his shirt, found himself in a similar predicament, only he was falling into the already burning pyre. He didn't bother screaming, settling for one last sigh of resignation. This sort of thing did seem to be his lot in life.

--

"Whoa…"

Shinji whistled appreciatively as he flicked through the dossier on Mayumi Tendo. He was impressed; it wasn't everyone that thought to make the entire thing mostly out of pictures. She didn't have that much family, an older sister, who was most unfortunately married, that would cause problems later, and an aunt by marriage. It didn't show anything about the uncle that probably existed somewhere, something he frowned at.

Interestingly, it listed the family of the sister's husband as well. That was, in fact, what most of the folder consisted of. It seemed as though, through marriage, she was related to everyone in the damn country. Oddly enough, he saw his own picture in there, something about his mother being a third cousin, twice removed, or someshit. What the hell did that mean?

"So, why am I here again?"

Misato peeked up at him from her position in the corner.

"So you can work with me, idiot!"

Shinji turned his wide grin toward the interrupting girl. He stretched, whipchord muscles standing out beneath his skin. "Shut up," he said casually, "unless you want to never speak again. Please?"

She opened her mouth.

He stood, and leaned forward, shoving his face into hers. "See this?" He demanded, or perhaps ordered, as he shoved her attention toward the scar under his eye. "Chemical burn scar. Potassium Hydroxide. Now, unless you want me pouring it down your goddamn throat, I suggest you shut the hell up and butt out, okiies?" He nodded, smiling, and patted her head like he would a dog. Which was assuming, of course, that he didn't kill the dog outright.

She shut her mouth, probably more surprised by the pat than intimidated by his threats. But that was okay, she wasn't talking.

"Good girl," he crooned, before turning back to Misato, ignoring Asuka's indignant spluttering. "Ah," he said, affecting a ridiculous accent, "do declahre." I do declare. "Ah deeemaynd ter knoaw why Ah aym here." I demand to know why I am here…

There was a long pause.

"What?"

Shinji glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "I told you to shut up, you stupid girl."

Misato cringed and Asuka flustered. "I've graduated from college!"

"And yet," Shinji drawled, "you seem intent on pissing me off. I would call this stupidity."

Misato took time to pray, ignoring the burning hulk of a cruise liner in her skull. Please God, she started, don't let him kill me. Take Asuka instead! Please! I'm too pretty to die!

Shinji paused, tilting his head as if listening to something. "Now why," he wondered aloud, "would I do that?"

End Chapter

Late. Late-late. Yaaaaay.